Just A Bump In The Road
by darkwing7174
Summary: An unprecedented event: Allen Walker and Road Kamelot sitting together in a room, talking peacefully. After a few more words are traded, however, it's debatable whether their conversation can be considered 'peaceful' at all. Brief interlude. Allen x Road


When Road opened her eyes, untangling her lashes to take in the dim light, it was because the person across from her was finally waking up. She felt the flux and current of his mind stir as he rose back into consciousness, and then saw the slits of his irises as bleary eyes cracked open. Their eyes met in the darkness, silver and indigo. Road felt her mouth curving up into that feral grin she couldn't help having around Allen Walker. She'd always liked the feeling of dominance, and in the presence of such a self-assured human—and an _exorcist,_ to boot—the feeling was especially triumphant.

The silver eyes blinked at her, at first surprised, and then his brows crushed together and curved upwards in confusion. Road nearly laughed. So innocent. So clueless.

"You took quite a hit there, exorcist. I was almost worried you wouldn't wake up."

Allen's frown grew deeper and his palm went to his forehead, tenderly prodding the two-inch gash above his eyebrow, as if just realizing it was there. He looked so concerned and confused it was all she could do not to give him a kiss right there.

"Did you do this to me?" he asked, his hand still palming his forehead.

This time she did laugh. "I was the one who pulled your ass out of the fire, exorcist. Be a little grateful."

"Then how did this happen?" he asked. "How..." He trailed off, seeming suddenly unsure of himself. Road only lifted her brows nonchalantly; she wasn't here to give him information. She would make him ask before she gave him any answers. And it was always fun, listening to his voice. Especially when he got aggravated and shouted at her, spouting his ideals in that smooth tenor still unbroken by age. In maybe ten years his voice would be rough, but still lilting, like the scrape of stubble across your cheek, breath and teeth against your neck, soft touches by calloused hands.

For now though, his voice was still a child's voice, pure and light, as he asked her, "What happened? How...Do you know me?"

She was surprised. This was not what she had expected.

And then came the kicker: "Do I know you?"

Road sat back in her chair, trying to blink back her surprise.

"You hit your head hard, didn't you?"

Allen gave her that worried, forlorn look again, the one that said: _Please help me. _She never thought she'd see that look directed at her. Mostly he looked at her with eyes that said they wanted to help _her._ Save her. How foolish—she wasn't the one who needed to be saved.

"Well," she said. "You know you're an exorcist, don't you?" An unsteady nod. "And you know that you're Allen Walker." Another more-sure nod. "But you don't know who I am? What I am?"

"...What you are? Aren't you a girl?"

A dangerous smile. "Oh, I am much more different than you think."

"Are you an exorcist too?"

This was too good. She didn't even bother to check herself, and the room filled with head-thrown-back cackles. "No," she laughed. "No. I am a Noah. A Noah Clansman. Do you know what that is?"

"...Some sort of...cult?"

That gave her pause. "I guess you could say that. But unlike your little human cults, the Noah Clansmen are not human. We are apostles of God, with memories passed down from Noah himself."

Allen must have realized his face was betraying every emotion he was feeling, for he seemed to make a visible effort to compose himself and control his expression. "So what exactly do you do? Are you like a monk of some sort?"

She gave him a winning smile. "We track down people with Innocence and rip it from their souls and bodies. Then we destroy the fragment. Sometimes we make the human a demon, but mostly we just kill them. Everyone has different ways, and we have a lot of freedom in how we choose. Tyki likes to have his pets devour a hole in a human's heart, and then watch them bleed to death. I prefer to break their minds until they're absolutely batshit insane, and let them die on their own time. Pretty civil of me, don't you think?"

Allen had frozen in his seat, giving her a look of complete incomprehension.

Road laughed. "Are you scared?"

"Yes."

She blinked, the smile slid from her face. Another surprise.

She couldn't help herself. "What?"

"What did you save me from?" he asked, expression under control again. Road was still reeling, and didn't realize he'd changed the topic.

"I...You fell. You and that girl exorcist and the one with the hammer." Allen looked like he didn't have a clue as to whom she was referring, but she continued on anyway. "You were up in the sky fighting, and a demon snuck up behind you—you know, the Level Three? You turned around, but I guess not in time, and it clocked you across the face. Sort of hilarious actually. The great Point-Breaker exorcist, struck down by a lowly Level Three."

Allen twitched backwards a fraction, obviously affronted. She heard him whisper to himself, "_Point-Breaker...?_", but then when he met her eyes again, he asked: "So then why did you save me? If you destroy Innocence, you obviously don't like exorcists. Why didn't you destroy mine?"

It was Road's turn to look affronted then. "As cute as you are right now, I don't think I like when you're all clueless. I much preferred what happened the first time we met—can't we go back to that?"

Instead of taking her bait, Allen ignored the question and asked again, "If you hate Innocence, exorcists, so much, why did you save me from a demon?"

"Because otherwise you would've died," she snapped. "And then I would have to find someone new to entertain me."

He stared at her, looking considering, curious. She didn't like this unruffled Allen at all. Where was the anger, the righteousness?

"Don't look so thrown," she said. "You know how few humans are actually _interesting_? Humans are pathetic. They're only good for getting themselves killed." And now she wanted to scare Allen; she was overcome with the urge. She wanted to _wake him up._

"I don't know what's wrong with your memory, exorcist, but in your right mind you hate me. Yes, even you with all your piety and nonjudgment. I'm right up there with the Millennium Earl. Your arm itches to kill me, even when your cursed left eye tells you I'm human. I've spattered your blood all over the ground, I've gouged out your stupid eye, I've hurt you, your friends, humans, demons. I've killed them. In your right mind, you'd aim your sword right here," she said, tapping the center cross of her _stigmata._

"But I don't want to hurt you," he said.

She shot him a particularly venomous glare. "Did you miss the part where I said if you were in your _right mind?"_

He frowned. "I may have hit my head, but I know myself better than you, thank you."

Ah. There was the righteousness. Road snorted humorlessly. "You humans. You all think you're invincible, with your endless ideals and such a limited scope of the world. You all die so quickly. And in such passionate explosions."

"Yes," replied Allen, not without malice. "I can see you enjoy watching."

Road frowned slightly, caught off-guard by his straightforwardness.

"Is that why you brought me here?" he continued. "Saved me in the first place? I amuse you?"

"You're talking in circles, exorcist. Yes, you _amuse_ me. All of you do, but you particularly."

He actually had the gall to look surprised. "Me? Why?"

Road resisted throwing up her hands. "You're only the epitome of humans—of an exorcist. You throw yourself beneath the Order and your so-called God's feet and preach about crap like loyalty and duty. You think you can protect and _save_ humans. Hell, you think you can save _demons_. You put the world's weight on your shoulders, declare that you can defeat the _Millennium Earl—_and you're just so hopelessly clueless how futile all your efforts are."

"I'm someone you hate to love, then," Allen said.

Road blinked. "No," she grit. "More like love to hate."

"Really? I don't think so." He shot her a grin.

She stared at him. He couldn't possibly be implying...

Allen brushed his hair from his wound, pinning her with his eyes. "Are you sure you saved me because I amuse you? Or..."

In a flicker of movement and purple-black light, Allen was thrown back against his chair. And then blacked out.

* * *

"Allen!"

He stirred.

"Allen! Allen, wake up!_ Over here, Lavi—I found him!_ Allen, can you hear me? Wake up, Allen!"

He felt hands shaking his shoulders, and then hair over his face, tickling his nose and cheeks. Squeezing his eyelids together, he groaned. His head was _pounding_.

"He's alive. Oh thank God he's alive. Allen, _please_ wake up..."

_Lenalee?_

With another groan he shifted on the ground, and encouraged by the sudden happy surge in Lenalee's commands, he propped himself up on his elbows and cracked open his eyes.

He was greeted immediately by the sight of Lenalee's familiar indigo eyes, huge with worry and relief, and a shock of red hair over her shoulder accompanied by the slightly obnoxious voice of its owner. Before he could really clear his head, Lenalee fell over him and wrapped her arms around him in a giant hug.

"Careful, Lenalee! He just woke up..." Lavi's voice said.

Lenalee ignored him, now pulling back and looking at him, her hands on his shoulders. "We were so worried, Allen. Are you okay? When I saw you get hit by the Level Three...and then you _fell_..."

"I'm fine...It's just my _head_...Ugh. My head hurts." Allen put a hand to his forehead and started a little when he felt no obvious lesion or bump.

"Yeah, you probably have a concussion," Lavi said, dropping to a crouch beside him. The eye-patched exorcist held a finger up in front of him and asked Allen to follow it with his eyes as he moved it back and forth. After a moment he brushed Allen's hair away from his forehead and squinted critically at Allen's whole head before giving him the thumbs up. "Yep! Probably a concussion. Are you dizzy? Any memory loss?"

Allen felt his forehead again. His head still pounded, but his skin felt perfectly normal. He was _sure _he should have felt some sort of cut or gash on his forehead, where the epicenter of the pain and throbbing was located.

He looked up at Lavi. "Are you sure you don't see anything? No marks on my forehead?"

"Other than the pentacle? Nope. Clear and spotless like a baby's butt."

Lavi and Lenalee helped hoist Allen to his feet. Lenalee made sympathetic noises when Allen groaned again and clutched his head with his palm.

"It's okay, Allen. We'll be at the Order soon, and we'll have the nurses check you out." Allen nodded blindly.

He didn't understand why he thought there should be some outward injury on his head. He remembered fighting the demons, and then Lenalee's warning cry as he turned to look behind him...The Level Three, mid-caterwaul and poised to strike...And then intense pain. He remembered plummeting, and the panic as the ground approached way too fast...

And then nothing.

He looked at his hands, at a loss, and then came to a stop in surprise. On his left hand, the tips of his index, middle, and ring finger were covered in dried blood. Bringing his hand to his forehead, the blood stain on his fingers matched exactly to the point on his head from where the pain was radiating. He _did_ have a wound. Or, at least, used to. But how on earth had he healed?

"Allen? Are you coming?"

He looked up. Lenalee and Lavi were up ahead, turned to look back at him. "Yeah," he called back. "Just a little disoriented." He moved to catch up, joining Lavi and Lenalee, and wiped the dried blood off on his jacket. "Let's get home."

* * *

"Road? You okay? You don't normally disappear into your dimension at random like that while on a mission."

Road slid her gaze over to Tyki, whose brow was lifted in concern.

"I'm _fine_," she said, kicking her legs back and forth as she lay on her stomach on the rug before the fireplace. Tyki looked unconvinced, peering over his book with a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Are you sure—"

A bedraggled stuffed bear met with his face mid-question, knocking the cigarette and snuffing it out. "Ah," Tyki said, making a pained expression. "Right." _PMS_, he thought to himself.

Road scowled and rested her chin back on her palm. Facing towards the crackling flames in the fireplace, she brought her other hand up in front of her. Patches of dried blood stained her fingers. Her scowl deepened and she whispered, "_Fucking humans..._" to herself.

But she didn't wipe the blood away.

...

* * *

**A/N**: Just a quick A/R one-shot. Thoughts? :)


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